


Fresh Meat Friday

by aprilcakes



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alice Quinn & Eliot Waugh Friendship, Bossy Margo Hanson, Margo and Eliot are mom and dad, Pep Talk, Physical Kids Cottage (The Magicians), Short & Sweet, Supportive Eliot Waugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28664685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilcakes/pseuds/aprilcakes
Summary: Freshman have been sorted into their magical disciplines and moved into their respective houses. Eliot and Margo love a "Welcome Home" party.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Fresh Meat Friday

Margo and Eliot loved placement day more than any other at Brakebills. On the last Friday of January, after a semester of hard work and trickery, first years were tested to reveal their natural inclinations and invited to join the living quarters of their discipline’s compatriots. The newly sorted first years would be met with fanfare and camaraderie, and for those lucky enough to join the Physical Kids’ cottage, impossibly strong cocktails. 

Margo liked to call it “Fresh Meat Friday.” While every day was a party for her and Eliot, this was the social event of the year. They truly loved shutting the cottage doors to all but its residents, uncorking the special absinthe, and bathing in an aura of pure and unadulterated debauchery. 

By 6pm the party could already be called raucous and Margo and Eliot collapsed into one another atop an overstuffed armchair in a dusky corner, away from the fray. They smiled like proud parents as their new housemates ladled punch from a cut glass bowl and danced both for and with themselves. Older students knew Margo and Eliot well enough to avoid the communal drink, and so left it to the newbies to find and lose and fuck themselves, spurred on by what was closer to a potion than a cocktail. Eliot laid his head in Margo’s lap and looked up at her. 

“We’ve outdone ourselves yet again,” he sighed. The lights of the “TADA” lettering above the fireplace pulsed. It looked like the signage was beaming with pride over the affair, saying “this way! Your life starts right here!”

Margo nodded in agreement. “At this rate, it’ll be a full-on bacchanal within the hour,” she smirked, “and I’m hungry for the fresh meat.” She set her gaze on a boyish first year who was engaged in a tragically one sided game of patty cake with a potted ficus. “Just look at that one,” she purred, “so adorable.”

“Now now,” Eliot chided, “he’s much too green for you. I’m afraid you would fuck the magic right out of him and the poor soul would be doomed to a life of mugglery.” He shifted in her lap. “Better leave him for me. I’ll be gentle.”

“As if you would,” Margo snorted. “You lack the restraint to be gentle with such innocence.”

He smiled. “They call me king of destruction,” he purred. “And you are my queen.” 

She stroked his perfectly curled hair and surveyed the room. “Look Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom.”

“And what about the shadowy places? In the dark corners and behind closed doors?” Eliot mused.

“Oh my king, those are the best places of all. Full of delicious secrets and exquisite buffets. Those are the places where we take others as our prey and feast to the point of bursting. There is such fun to be had under the cover of darkness.” She swept her hand across the drunken scene. “Just take your pick.”

Eliot smiled. “Nothing pairs with a dark corner quite like a tall and handsome stranger.” He sat up and tipped over an empty martini glass, frowning. “But I’m waning and could use a top up to reinvigorate.” He stretched a kink out of his neck and considered his options. He’d heard a whisper that someone had brought magical vodka that would temporarily turn humans into nymphs. He’d never fucked as a nymph before. He scanned the room and saw Quentin, the loveable idiot, eat a handful of chips from a crystal dish next to the punch bowl and wash them down with a swig of something that appeared both vicious and viscous. He’d find himself in a closet trying to fuck the coats by the end of the night, and would learn not to eat communal food without knowing where it came from. 

“Oh boo,” Margo pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. “I was planning to add him to my collection tonight.”

“And I was planning to get there first,” Eliot responded. “But he won’t be able to stand up, much less get it up, for a couple of days.” He paused. “Terrible intuition to consume anything lying around in this house.”

“Yes well he’s pretty enough to get away with being a little dim.” She held up her own empty cocktail glass and pouted.

Eliot snapped his fingers and a thoroughly forgettable second year appeared with two martini glasses. “Apologies Eliot. We’re all out of magical vodka.” Eliot sighed. A host must always sacrifice for his guests. “The gin is infused with just a touch of molly though.”

Eliot and Margo snatched the glasses. “Fine. Be gone,” he ordered, swatting at the air.

The self-appointed sovereigns settled back into one another and admired the scene. All around them people danced, groped, drank, and lost themselves. Everyone revled and fornicated, quite literally lost in the magic, except for one lone girl. Alice Quinn sat on a stained ottoman nursing a snifter of brown liquid and staring at the bookshelf before her, wishing she could disappear into one of its volumes. Eliot balled up a used napkin and threw it at her with a huff. She startled and whipped her head up.

“Chill honey. You look like you’re ready to do battle magic,” Margo smiled. “Come on over here. We’ve got plenty of room.” They didn’t, but Margo was feeling benevolent.

“I was just,” she stopped. “I was actually about to go. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.” She stood and eyed the staircase that led up to her new bedroom. 

“Not so fast,” Eliot commanded. “No one is exempt from the communal hangover that shall grip this entire campus tomorrow. Believe me, even Dean Fogg is getting fucked up right now.” He glanced at her glass. “And besides, you haven’t finished your drink.”

“I wasn’t going to. It’s really not good and to be honest, I’m not totally sure what it is.”

In the time it took Alice to find an empty surface and set down her glass, Eliot had a fresh drink at the ready. 

“Gin Collins,” he announced, pressing the glass into her hand. “I can promise that it’s far better than whatever you had.” She eyed the drink warily. “It’s regular, boring gin, sheesh” he huffed. “Drugs are fun, but only when one takes them on purpose.”

She took a careful sip. “It’s good.” How did you make that so fast?”

“You have your things. I have mine,” he replied. “Now sit with us.”

She did, quite stiffly, and scanned the room for any form of salvation. 

“He’s long gone,” Margo said. Alice looked at her with unconvincing puzzlement. “Quentin,” she elaborated, rolling her eyes.

“I wasn’t looking for Quentin,” Alice said quickly.

“Yes you were,” Margo replied. Her lips curled into a devilish smirk. “Can’t blame you. But he’ll be out of commission for a while. Saw him drinking something pretty questionable, so my guess is he’s naked in a closet somewhere or making out with the flatware in the kitchen.” 

Alice looked confused and alarmed. Margo and Eliot roared with laughter. “Oh lighten up sweetie. He’ll be fine. Just don’t look too closely at his dick for a day or two.” They erupted again and Eliot dabbed tears from the corners of his eyes. 

“Chill,” Margo chuckled. “Find yourself someone to grope. The bar for inhibitions is pretty low tonight.” She looked her up and down. “Shit, I wish I were so inclined to take you to bed myself. You’re a specimen my dear.”

Alice turned pink and studied her shoes. “I wish I could. Really. But I’m not very good at random hookups. I like emotional connections. You know, real stuff.”

Eliot snorted and Margo waved her hands about in a way that screamed “ew, stop.” “Alice honey, there are two types of sex,” Margo said. “Sure, I’ve heard that sometimes it’s about emotion. I’ve not been personally acquainted with that version and frankly, it sounds annoying.” She stood up and rested her hands on her angled hips. It was a queenly stance and the hazy fug of the party seemed to glow around her body. Eliot leaned back on the couch and smirked. He loved this side of her. “Most sex is about power,” Margo declared. “Men are small creatures. When we fuck them, we own them, however temporarily.” Eliot nodded in agreement as Margo approached Alice to take her hand and lift her from the couch. “Look at you.” She popped open the top three buttons of Alice’s all too conservative blouse and squeezed her freed breasts into the opening. “You’ve got the best tits in this entire place.” Alice squeaked and fumbled while Margo pulled the bottom of her blouse up and knotted it beneath her bra. “And a bangin’ body.” She surveyed Alice in a clinical fashion and hiked her skirt up a few inches. Almost there, but not quite. Something was missing. Alice looked like a rabbit facing a wolf, but Eliot clapped his hands gleefully. Margo snapped her fingers and in her palm appeared a tube of lipstick, a red so dark that it was almost, but not quite, black. “It’s my favorite. I’ve got it on magical speed dial,” she explained as she popped open the tube and swiped it over Alice’s lips. She stood back and admired the finished product. “My dear, you could take anyone on this campus,” she purred. “Even me if you want some more pointers.” Alice stumbled backward and Margo grinned, not insulted. “Fine, fine. Go find somebody to own tonight. Suck him dry and give him a fake number. You can always have Quentin tomorrow.”

Eliot rose and applauded. “Brava!” he cried as he quickly tied a red string around her wrist. “Confidence charm. You’re welcome. I so love a glow up.” Alice looked down at her own tits and startled as if they’d just suddenly appeared. Margo took her by the shoulders and pointed her toward a group of students levitating by the fireplace. “Go make somebody’s night,” she encouraged in a sweet voice, like a mother sending her child off to the first day of kindergarten.

Alice took her chance to escape from the mothering and stumbled toward the group. Eliot cleared his throat and she looked back to see him exaggeratedly stand up straight and pantomime pushing breasts together. She copied his actions and turned back around. 

Eliot and Margo sank back into the overstuffed couch and breathed in the heady scent of sweat, liquor, and magic. “That wasn’t a confidence charm,” Eliot said. “It’ll make her so horny that she’ll quite literally have to get someone naked.” He paused. “Or she might develop blue balls and try to conquer North America. The side effects are fickle.” 

“We all just want to see our children succeed,” Margo purred innocently. “As for the side effects, that’s what therapists are for.” She downed the remaining dregs of her martini. “Now, I was planning on fresh meat, but to be honest I’ve got a hankering for Todd tonight,” she declared. “Let’s go.” Eliot opened his mouth to protest but was cut off. “Now before you complain, I know for a fact that he’s got a stash of apples that can transport a person’s consciousness to another realm.” She smiled wickedly. “Let’s go fuck him in Narnia.” 

Eliot roared with laughter and took her hand, grinning. “After you my queen.”


End file.
